Page 132 of For the Sub

At home, she placed one on the table and the other on the vanity of the master bathroom.

“They make your place feel more lived in,” she said, returning to him.

He was in the kitchen slicing a lime for the glasses of sparkling mineral water that he’d just poured.

His loft was as sparse as hers was cluttered. For the first time, his surroundings appeared both sterile and inhospitable.

He laid down the knife on the cutting board.

“Oh, oh, Sir.” She clutched her hands in front of her.

“What?” he asked.

“You have that look.”

He frowned. “What look?”

“The one where you’re going to ravish me.”

Niles laughed.

At every turn, Brandy surprised and delighted him. “If I wasn’t planning that before, I am now.” He pulled her against him. “Open your mouth,” he ordered. “I’ve wanted to taste you all afternoon.” He sought out her tongue. At first, he was as easy-going as he had been on the dance floor last night.

But always, where she was concerned, carnality blazed inside him.

Responding in kind, she reached around him, granting him deeper access.

Suddenly, it was about far more than the kiss. It was about them, about how she reacted to him.

He was with professionals all the time, and he’d never experienced anyone like her.

Beautiful Brandy pushed him in ways no one else did. Even though she frustrated him, he admired the hell out of her.

As always, she tasted of sunshine and laughter, but that was undercut by the danger she presented.

This sensual woman made him question everything he’d promised himself.

The idea that he wanted her around for more than just a day conflicted with his sworn promise to never fall in love again.

Still, the way she felt in his arms left him thinking about tomorrow. “Damn,” he said as he ended the kiss. “We should make out more often.”

“Is that what we were doing?” she asked from the protective sphere of his arms.

“Having sex with clothes on?”

“That’s what it felt like to me,” she admitted.

He left her long enough to lower the blinds. “I love your breasts.”

“They’re for you, Sir.”

“Damn fucking right,” he said. “Now get that shirt off.”

She took hold of the hem and tugged the material up over her head and dropped it on the floor. The bra quickly followed, as did her jeans, panties, and shoes.

Then she was standing in front of him in her necklace and nothing else. It looked beautiful against her creamy skin.

“Crawl to the guest room,” he ordered. “First door on the right. I want to watch your ass.”

---